


say it loud, say it clear

by Petro



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 22:28:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8419642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petro/pseuds/Petro
Summary: Daniel likes Martin, but Martin doesn't get his hints.Until one day he does.





	

"Hey, Martin," Daniel calls one day, testing the waters. "Do you want to have dinner?"

He's already found a nice Italian takeaway, bought a couple of action films on DVD and that NHL video game — Martin used to play hockey, he might like it.

Martin stops fumbling for something in his bag and meets Daniel's gaze, looking a little confused.

"No, I guess?" he finally answers. "I'm not hungry really."

"Oh... Okay, then," Daniel says and quickly leaves the locker room, wondering if he jumped the gun. That night he plays NHL alone.

***

"Hey, Martin," Daniel takes another shot approaching Martin's car at the Melwood parking lot. "Any chance you can give me a lift?"

Martin who's almost started the engine quickly gets out of the car. His eyes are shining with enthusiasm and Daniel can't help but smile. Maybe this part of his plan wasn't really that stupid.

"Is something wrong with your car?" Martin asks and Daniel's smile slowly starts to fade away. Martin looks at his Audi like he's ready to get under its hood right now to fix the motor. Daniel's never thought he would be jealous of his own car. "I can help, you know, I'm quite experienced."

Daniel sighs, fighting the urge to cover his face with his free hand, and forces a grin.

"No, no, I just thought we... It's fine. Forget it, okay? I got this."

Martin shrugs, gets back into the car and pulls off. Driving his new and perfectly functioning Audi back home Daniel wishes he gave Martin a hearty slap upside the head to help him think faster.

***

Being pitiful is completely out of his character but if pity works he's ready to give it a try. 

"Are you okay?" Martin runs up to him right after the whistle blows and bends over, looking at him worriedly. 

"Hey, Martin," Daniel smiles weakly, clutching at his ankle and trying to look as hurt as he possibly can although Lukas' tackle was quite clumsy and not painful at all. "Sorry, it seems like we're going to lose now."

"Doesn't matter," Martin assures. "Do you need help?"

"I think I pulled a muscle," Daniel complains and grabs the botoom of Martin's training shirt. Now Martin will help him get up and will be holding him tight around the waist while Daniel is getting to the sidelines of the training ground, limping more badly than he's supposed to. Then Martin surely will guide him to the medical office and, of course, drive him home, so Daniel will be obliged to thank him with proper dinner, right?

"Martin, maybe you could just..."

"Sure," Martin nods, squeezes Daniel's shoulder firmly and turns to the sidelines. "Hey, we need a doctor here!"

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Daniel growls loudly and falls on his back closing his eyes in despair. Unfortunately, the pitch doesn't open to swallow him up.

"Hang on," Martin's compassionate voice comes from above. What a kindhearted bastard.

***

"Hey, Martin," Daniel calls at lunch trying to control his voice. It still sounds like a threat though. "Any plans for tonight?"

There's a tight knot in his guts, Daniel is almost ready to hear another simple and annoyingly logical answer that will destroy all his attempts to reach Martin once again.

_"Well, I'm going to get back home, have dinner, play with the dogs a bit and then watch TV. What about you?"_

Daniel already hates him for that answer.

"No, no plans at all," Martin answers calmly, puts his glass aside and looks up at Daniel. "Any suggestions?"

"What?" Daniel asks bemusedly. His anger and disappointment disappear in a heartbeat and suddenly he's left absolutely stunned, face to face with Martin Skrtel who looks at him with observant eyes.

"Do you want to go somewhere?" Martin clarifies. "Together?"

"No," Daniel blurts out without thinking. "No, not really, I just... Just... Nothing like that. Sorry."

"Okay," Martin shrugs and gets back to his food. "You dropped the fork."

"Thanks," Daniel says feebly, gets up from the table and goes out of the cafeteria not bothering about the fork lying on the floor and his almost intact lunch.

His ears burn all the way to the parking lot.

***

"I'm sick of it," Daniel mutters to himself, walking down the hall. "Fucking sick of you, Skrtel, fuck you and your bloody composure, your fucking lips, awful accent and freaking stubbornness. What an idiot. What a bald tattooed idiot."

He kicks the door of the gym with his foot and it hits the wall with a sound of a shot. Daniel bursts in, trembling with anger, and freezes at once. He's actually wanted to train a bit more all by himself, hoping that hard work would make him stop thinking about his center-back partner as it usually does. But the only person in the empty gym is Martin, who is standing near the treadmill and wiping his neck with a towel, and something in Daniel's head explodes.

"Hi, Dan," Martin says wearily and waves with his hand. "Are you going to lift weights again?"

"You!" Daniel growls, crosses the room in a second and grabs Martin by the collar of his sweat soaked shirt. If Daniel's viking ancestors saw him at that moment they definitely would be proud — the rage of countless berserk generations and bitterness of youngsters who weren't allowed to join their fathers in raids combine in Daniel's voice and eyes making a wild mixture of emotions. Daniel's fuming with it and it feels like the air around him thickens. 

Martin doesn't seem frightened though. He just puts his free hand on Daniel's clenched fists and looks at him in surprise.

"You," Daniel repeats, moving his head closer to Martin's face. "I. Like. You."

Martin stares at him with an unreadable expression and keeps silent. Daniel breathes heavily as if he just ran a marathon and thinks _"that's it, I said it. Now he's going to punch me. God, that feels good."_

He wonders whether he'd manage to duck in time (thankfully Martin's still holding a towel with the right hand, his left-hand blow would be much easier to escape) but Martin suddenly pulls Daniel a bit closer and gently strokes his knuckles. His touches are so warm and reassuring that Daniel's fingers unclench immediately.

"And that's it?" Martin asks softly. He smiles and Daniel's heart misses a beat. "You should've just said so."

**Author's Note:**

> I feel extremely nostalgic today so I decided to translate this small plot bunny I wrote back in 2013.  
> (it's been almost four years, whaaaaat)  
> English isn't my native language so if you find any mistakes, please, let me know.  
> Skagger is alive, y'all!


End file.
